


The Costume Party

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Series: Professor Dean Winchester AU [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Professor Dean Winchester, Sex in the Impala, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:51:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4970584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Winchester’s and the reader’s Halloween doesn’t quite go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Costume Party

“You should come over and spend Halloween with me,” Dean said. He picked up a pile of books from the desk in his classroom and carried them into his office.

“I was invited to a party,” you said, following him and kicking the door shut behind you. “Garth’s roommate has some huge Halloween party every year and Garth asked me to go.”

“I heard about that party. He asked me if I wanted to go.” Dean grunted. “But the more important question is why did Garth ask you out?”

“It’s not like that,” you laughed. “There’s this girl, Bess, that he likes. I guess he wants me to go and talk him up or something. He needs me, Dean. He’s hopeless with girls.”

“No is not an option,” the professor insisted. “I don’t want to spend Halloween with anyone other than you. We’ll hand out candy to all the trick-or-treaters and rent scary movies so we can cuddle under a pile of blankets while we eat popcorn and drink beer. If I’m lucky, I might even get to cop a feel.” He pulled you into his arms, his nose nuzzling your neck, chuckling low in the back of his throat.

“You had me until ‘cop a feel’ you jerk,” you giggled, half-heartedly trying to shove him away from you.

He pulled you down with him onto the plaid couch, tightening his arms around you, his lips pressed to your neck. “Come on,” he whispered. “It’ll be fun. Just you and me and a bunch of little kids begging for candy.”

“Okay, okay,” you sighed. “Halloween night, I’m all yours, Professor Winchester.”

“Oh, you’re already all mine,” Dean growled. Then he made a point of proving it.

* * *

“Dean?” you called as you stepped in Dean’s back door at exactly six p.m., tossed the bag of candy and the movie to the table, then grabbed two beers from the refrigerator. You were pulling the microwave popcorn from the cupboard when you heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“I’m in the kitchen,” you yelled.

You turned around just as Dean came through the archway between the kitchen and the living room. You were surprised to see him in a suit and tie, rather than the sweatpants and t-shirt you’d expected.

“Um, that’s a bit formal for watching “My Bloody Valentine,” don’t you think?” you asked. You had a gnawing feeling in your gut that he wasn’t wearing the suit as a joke or even as a costume.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said, a sad smile on his face. “Mr. Shurley called and there’s some alumni, Dick Roman, who apparently makes big donations to the school on a regular basis, and he wants to meet me. Tonight. He called Chuck and invited us both out to dinner. Said he was really impressed with me when we met at the alumni dinner, wants to talk to me about the department and my ideas for moving it forward, for making it a substantial part of the university. I guess he’s a huge history buff, has read most of my papers and seen my work. Chuck didn’t really give me a choice. I have to go.”

Disappointment flooded you, but you pushed it down and tried not to show it. “No, it’s okay,” you said. “I understand.”

He pulled you into the warm circle of his arms and pressed his cheek against the side of your head. “I’d rather be here with you,” he whispered. “I really am sorry.”

“I’ll call Garth, meet him at that party he invited me to,” you shrugged. “I’ll make do.”

“That’s a good idea,” he grinned. “Go. Have fun.” He kissed your forehead, then looked at his watch. “I need to go.” He grabbed his keys from the counter, kissed you again and then hurried out the door, shouting “I love you” over his shoulder.

“I love you, too,” you murmured as you watched the door swing closed behind him.

* * *

The party was pretty much what you’d expect from a college Halloween party - beer, loud music, a lot of skin showing and not surprisingly, boring as hell. You sat in a corner, sipping a warm beer and wondering how soon you could sneak out. You shifted uneasily in your seat, wishing you hadn’t worn the costume you’d bought as a joke. You hadn’t planned on anyone other than Professor Winchester seeing it, but when he’d canceled your plans and you decided to go to the party, it was the only thing you had available.

The skirt was short, of course, and plaid. When you’d picked it out, you’d made note of how it looked like Dean’s couch. The white shirt was tight in all the right places, emphasizing your curves and the tie matched the skirt. When you’d tried it on in the safety of your quiet dorm room, you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of a naughty school girl costume. You’d hoped Dean would appreciate it as well. Now you weren’t even sure he was going to get to see it.

The clock on the wall had become your best friend; you kept throwing glances at it every few minutes, wishing it would move a little bit faster. You’d promised Garth you would stay until at least eleven, maybe longer if things weren’t going as planned with Bess. It was almost ten-thirty now and Garth was sitting on the couch talking to Bess, so hopefully you could head back to your dorm soon. Tonight hadn’t turned out at all like you’d hoped and you were ready to go home.

You waved off yet another guy asking you to dance, settled further into your seat and finished your beer. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back.

“Do me a favor and dance with at least one guy, please?” Garth mumbled, dropping to the arm of the chair. “I shouldn’t be the only one having fun.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to…”

“Well, you’re going to,” he interrupted. “Promise me that you’ll dance with the next guy that asks.”

“Garth,” you sighed.

“Humor me,” he said. “You need a man, Y/N. Let me help.”

You had to stifle a giggle. You weren’t sure how Garth hadn’t figured out you and Professor Winchester were together, the two of you had gotten pretty lax at hiding it around him, but he was oblivious.

“Will you go back to hanging out with Bess if I agree?” you asked.

“Yes,” Garth said, rising to his feet. “The next guy, no matter what. Promise?”

“I promise,” you nodded.

He patted your shoulder and hurried back to Bess. You hated promising to dance with some random guy, but Garth could be really insistent and you knew he wouldn’t let it go until you agreed. You figured you’d get up, shake your ass a little, then make a quick exit before anybody got any ideas.

You sat in the chair in the corner for another fifteen minutes, thinking that it was unlikely anyone was going to ask you to dance at this point - everyone seemed to be paired up already - when a hand landed on your shoulder. You turned to see a man in a costume crouching beside you. He was wearing a masquerade mask that covered the upper half of his face, half silver and half black, engraved with intricate symbols around the eyes and across the forehead. He took your hand and gestured toward the dance floor.

You glanced over your shoulder at Garth, who smiled encouragingly at you. You sighed and climbed to your feet. Just a quick dance and you were out of here. You followed the stranger, dressed in black slacks, a white open-collared shirt, a red waistcoat and a long, black coat, along with his mask, out onto the makeshift dance floor. You were relieved that the song playing had a relatively fast beat, assuring you wouldn’t have to get too close. Your dance partner weaved through the multitude of people until he was in the middle of the floor, then he turned to watch you as you approached. You wished you could see his face behind the mask.

By the time you caught up to him, the song playing came to an end and a new one began. A slow one. You hesitated, not really wanting to slow dance with someone you didn’t even know. You were about to turn and walk away when the masked stranger grabbed your hand and pulled you into his arms, holding you flush against his body.

You were caught off-guard, momentarily stunned. You were about to push away from him he spoke.

“You look unbelievably gorgeous,” the deep, sexy, _familiar_ voice growled low in your ear.

“Dean?” you gasped.

“Shhh,” he whispered, his lips skimming your ear.

“What are you doing here?” you asked. You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him down to press a quick kiss to his lips. It was weird, different, not like you were used to. You leaned back, squinting at him in the dim light.

“What the...where...where the hell is your beard?” you stammered.

He rubbed his fingers over his now naked chin, a grin playing over his lips. “Oh, yeah, surprise,” he grinned. “I shaved it off. Do you like it?”

“I don’t know,” you murmured, rubbing your hand over his soft cheek. “It’s different. I’m not sure what I think yet.” You brushed your thumb across his lips. “You didn’t tell me why you’re here.”

“I wanted to see you,” he answered. “After dinner was over and I could get away, I texted Garth and asked him for the address. Pulled out this costume I’d shoved in the back of my closet and hauled ass over here.” His hands slid down your waist, over your ass, and beneath your skirt, cupping it with both hands, pulling you flush against his body. “This costume, Y/N, it’s...fuck…I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you giggled. “I bought it for you. I was afraid you wouldn’t get to see it. Naughty schoolgirl? You don’t think it’s too cliche, do you?”

“Oh, it’s completely cliche, but that’s what makes it so goddamn hot,” he murmured. He caught your lips in his, biting at your lower lip, sucking it gently. His nose brushed against yours, his mouth exploring yours like the two of you had never kissed you before.

When you broke apart, you were both panting and you could feel Dean’s arousal pressing into your side. He slid his hand up your waist, his hand resting against the side of your breast, his thumb brushing over the nipple several times until it was a hard nub. You were leaning into his touch, your back arching, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

His lips were on your neck, sucking wet, bruising marks into the skin. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmured. “Go back to my place.”

You nodded, words escaping you. You let him lead you off the dance floor, grabbed your purse, waved to Garth and followed Dean out the front door. He wrapped his coat around you to keep you warm on the walk to his car, stopping several times to kiss you or pull you into a lingering hug.

By the time you reached the car, you were humming with desire. Dean pulled open the driver’s side door, took your elbow and pushed you inside, sliding in right behind you. He tossed the masquerade mask in the backseat, pulled you into his arms and practically assaulted your neck, nipping, biting, and teasing. His hands slid under your skirt and between your legs, his breath hot in your ear.

“Dean,” you moaned. “Not here.” The streetlight was shining directly in the front window of the car, illuminating you both.

Dean nodded, shoved his keys in the ignition and started the car. He shifted into drive, pulled away from the curb and drove a bit faster than necessary down the street, his hand tucked between your thighs.

You turned toward him, cuddled up against his side, absorbing the warmth from his body. You had one hand on his thigh and you were rubbing it up and down his leg. Several times you brushed against the erection straining behind his pants.

“Y/N,” he groaned. “Careful, baby.”

You slid your hand up his leg, purposefully squeezing his hard shaft before slipping your fingers in the waistband of his dress pants and popping open the button and sliding down the zipper, licking and nipping at the soft skin under his chin as you did. You maneuvered past the waistband of his briefs, taking him in your hand, his half-hard cock twitching at your touch. A quiet moan slipped from his mouth and his hand on the steering wheel tightened noticeably, the knuckles white.

You took him in your hand, stroking him slowly, grasping him at the base and sliding your hand along the length, twisting it just beneath the head and gliding over the top. Dean hissed, his hips moving minutely, the wheel of the Impala jerking slightly to the left.

“Y/N,” he growled.

At the stoplight on Main and University, he somehow managed to get you out of the tiny pair of spandex boy shorts you were wearing under the equally small skirt, his fingers just grazing your wet folds before the light turned green. He took off with a squeal of tires, his lip caught between his teeth, a determined look on his face.

“Drive faster,” you whispered, his cock now hard and leaking pre-come as you jerked him off.

He did, pulling into his driveway and thumbing open the garage door minutes later. He turned off the Impala as the garage door slid closed, then he was all over you, pushing you down on the well-worn leather of the car’s front seat, his jacket beneath you. He shoved up your skirt, two of his fingers sliding inside your pussy before your back had even touched the seat. He leaned over you, locked his mouth on the soft skin beneath your ear, and sucked greedily, as he pressed the heel of his hand tight against your pubic bone and his fingers fucked into you.

“So damn hot, Y/N,” he growled. “Do you know how bad I want you, how bad I need you?” His hand was in your hair, holding your head, turning it to the side so he could continue to assault your neck. “You’re killing me, your touch is driving me wild. I need you, baby, now.”

You were pushing yourself down on his fingers, grinding against them, his thumb rubbing at your clit, drawing a keen of pleasure out of you. You were desperate for him, riding his fingers, right on the edge, close to coming right then and there. You pushed at the pants now riding low around his hips, wanting him free, wanting him inside you.

As if he’d read your mind, Dean pushed the pants down thighs, pulled your leg around his waist, then he was inside you, filling you completely. You both moaned as he moved with small, tight thrusts because of the confined space.

You wrapped one arm around his back and held onto the armrest on the door behind your head with the other, your hips rising to meet every one of Dean’s thrusts. You were kissing, mouths smashed together, your bodies moving in a synchronized rhythm, sliding over the leather seat, completely lost in each other. You wrapped your legs around Dean’s waist, your feet on his ass, silently encouraging him to move, pulling him deeper inside you.

You felt it building, the heat seeming to start in your chest and spreading out through every limb to the very tips of your fingers and the ends of your toes. You threw your head back, slamming it into the door behind you, groaning not in pain but in pleasure. You squeezed your eyes closed as the building tension finally let loose, encompassing you in overwhelming ecstasy as the orgasm traveled through your body, seemingly burning a path right into your soul.

Dean’s thrust were coming faster and harder, pushing you rapidly toward another orgasm. His entire body tensed, his hands tightening on your waist and shoulder as he came, his low groan echoing through the car. You joined him, moaning his name as a second orgasm hit you. You collapsed against the seat, Dean’s body covering yours.

He took your hand, tangling his fingers together with yours, and pressed his forehead to yours. He rained tender kisses over your eyes, your nose, and your cheeks. When he finally kissed your lips, there was a smile on his face.

You brushed your fingers down his naked cheek. “What are you smiling about?” you teased.

“Us,” he chuckled. “So damn crazy for each other that we can’t even make it out of the car.” Dean carefully pushed himself off of you, maneuvering himself back behind the steering wheel. He took your hand and helped you up, tugging you into his arms. “You drive me crazy, Y/N, make me feel like a kid again. I love it.”

You smiled and snuggled against his side, letting him hold you. “Yeah, well the feeling’s mutual, Professor,” you replied. “You’re lucky I didn’t climb in your lap back on Main Street.” You cupped his cheek in your hand, your fingers once again tracing the lines of his beardless jaw.

“You don’t like it, do you?” Dean asked, running a hand down the side of his face.

“I miss the beard,” you shrugged. “But if you like it…”

“I’ll grow it back,” he smiled. “For you.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your neck. “But it’s going to burn for a while,” he growled, squeezing your breast gently. “Think you can handle that?”

You nodded as the thought sent a shiver through you, goosebumps rising on your skin. Dean grinned and kissed the tip of your nose.

“What do you say we go in and have that Halloween date now?” he asked. “Popcorn, beer, the pile of blankets and that cheesy horror movie you picked up.”

“Hey, don’t make fun of my choice in movies,” you laughed, following him out of the car. “My Bloody Valentine is a cinematic masterpiece. Who knows, you might like it.”

Dean pushed you against the side of the car as you stepped out, his hard body flush against yours. “Oh, I won’t be doing much watching of the movie,” he smirked. “I have other things in mind.”

 


End file.
